It is foolish to pluck out one's hair for sorrow, as if grief
could be assuaged by baldness.
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It is foolish to pluck out one's hair for sorrow, as if grief
could be assuaged by baldness.
[Lat., Stultum est in luctu capillum sibi evellere, quasi calvito
maeror levaretur.]

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks;
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Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks;
And when she winds them round a young man's neck,
She will not ever set him free again.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less with baldness.

It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less with baldness.

The little wind that hardly shook
The silver of the sleeping brook
Blew the gold hair about read more

The little wind that hardly shook
The silver of the sleeping brook
Blew the gold hair about her eyes,--
A mystery of mysteries.
So he must often pause, and stoop,
An all the wanton ringlets loop
Behind her dainty ear--emprise
Of slow event and many sighs.

An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair,
And fell adown his shoulders with losse care.

An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair,
And fell adown his shoulders with losse care.

His head,
Not yet by time completely silver'd o'er,
Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth,
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His head,
Not yet by time completely silver'd o'er,
Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth,
But strong for service still, and unimpair'd.

And from that luckless hour my tyrant fair
Has led and turned me by a single hair.

And from that luckless hour my tyrant fair
Has led and turned me by a single hair.

Within the midnight of her hair,
Half-hidden in its deepest deeps.

Within the midnight of her hair,
Half-hidden in its deepest deeps.